Missing You Today
by dreamwriter32
Summary: It's Lily's birthday. She would have been thirty nine today. Harry misses her, as he silently mourns his loss on his mother's birthday and receives comfort for another mother. I don't own Harry Potter


Missing You Today

 **AN: In Honor of Lily Evans Potter's birthday.**

Today would have been his mother's birthday. She would have been thirty nine today. He imagined that she would spend the day moaning about a year away from forty, like Petunia did a few years ago. He imagined that he would attempt to make a cake. He had barely succeeded for Ginny's birthday, wanting to make the most important woman in his life's special day all the more special.

But instead of birthday cake and birthday hugs and kisses, today Harry stood in front of the gray marble double head stone. The January wind was cold against his face, almost freezing his tears to his face. He didn't bother wiping the tears off his face as more followed when he did wipe them away. He sniffled and let out a breath, seeing his breath in the cold air.

Finally, after standing there for twenty minutes, he kneeled down in front of his mother's side of the headstone and conjured a bouquet of white lilies. He placed a preservation charm on the flowers so they could last the winter. Looking around for a moment, he made a note to get some vases to place on the side of the headstone.

Standing up and dusting the snow off his knee, Harry took another shaky breath.

"Happy Birthday Mum," he whispered. He walked back towards the kissing gate and down the lane. Ministry workers were at the house that Harry and his parents lived in when Voldemort attacked. Not wanting to live there, Harry decided to make the house a memorial for that night many Halloween nights ago.

Kingsley was stunned at Harry's suggestion and had been gracious enough to allow ownership to remain with Harry. The ministry would take care of the upkeep with the grounds and Bill had come and placed heavier wards on the place. Harry was the only person allowed to enter the house through the wards. He had taken Ron and Hermione with him one time and Ginny another. Both times, he had looked around the house for something he would want. Most of the more personal items had been removed and in the Potter family vault, along with what furniture Harry figured he could use when he moved out of the Burrow.

The church bells ringing singled the evening hour. Molly would have dinner ready and Harry had said that he wouldn't be out long.

Quickly, Harry walked to the alley behind the house and disapparated to the back garden of the Burrow. Harry had helped Bill set up the wards around the house. It was a force of habit, but something that Kingsley had insisted on at least until all the Death Eaters were caught. Also it had provided privacy from the reporters who seemed to camp out on the other side of the wards. The last of them had left a month ago, but Harry hadn't taken the wards down yet.

"Harry, dear. I thought you would be back sooner," Molly said once Harry entered the sniffling kitchen of the Burrow. The smell of roast filled the air and made Harry's stomach growl in anticipation.

"I lost track of time," Harry explained and quickly escaped the kitchen and headed upstairs to Bill's old room. He had moved into the room when Bill and Fleur returned to Shell Cottage. The bonus of staying in Bill's room was Ginny's was across the landing. Harry missed their late night talks in either his room or hers. Hermione had moved to Charlie's room, but has spent many nights with Ron.

Then when Ginny turned seventeen, she started sleeping with Harry. As long as sleep was all they did, Molly didn't object.

Right now, Harry wished Ginny was here with him and not at Hogwarts. But he shrugged and headed on to the bathroom where he washed up for supper.

Ron was on weekend duty for the Auror office and George had yet to move back into the flat above the shop. Harry doubted that George would ever move back. George had accompanied him on a few of his trips to London to look for a flat. Harry didn't want to stay at the Burrow forever and had a goal of moved into a flat by the time Ginny was home from Hogwarts for good.

He returned downstairs and sat down at his usual place at the table. Arthur was at his place at the head of the table and Molly was serving dinner on plates.

"Tuck in," Molly said as she sat down her plate.

Harry listened to the conversations around the table. Charlie was home for a few days for a quick visit and was talking to his father about a job that had come open in a Dragon Reservation in Wales. He was considering taking it to be closer to home and had valued his father's opinion. George was talking to Molly about baking some biscuits and other sweets to have on the counter. Since it was winter and Molly didn't have anything to do because clean house, cook and start knitting jumpers, George figured it would keep Molly busy.

Harry picked at his plate and had only eaten about half when he excused himself from the table and headed upstairs. He slipped into his bedroom and laid down on the bed.

He kept thinking of the what if. The what if his parents survived.

He was eighteen years old, but if there was anything he wished for more in this world, it was for his parents. He wondered if they were proud of him. Of course, they were. They said so last May when they appeared with the help of the resurrection stone. He looked up at the framed picture of his parents and stared at his mother.

How he wished he would celebrate this day with her.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Molly woke up in the middle of the night. She felt her mother's intuition going off inside her. She slipped out of bed and walked downstairs, deciding to start at the first floor.

There was a light on in Bill's old room.

 _Harry's room_ Molly reminded herself. Bill was happily married and he wasn't going to be moving back home.

She paused at the cracked open door. Listening closely, she leaned her ear close to the door. She pondered for a second if she should just leave him alone or peek in on him. A soft, muffled sniffle made her mind up. She slipped through the crack of the door and the sight in front of her nearly broke her heart.

He knew she was there, even when she settled herself beside him on the double bed. They sat in silence with nothing but the soft ticking of the clock downstairs in the sitting room.

Finally, he broke the silence. "Today would have been her birthday. She would have been thirty nine."

Another sniffle before he continued. "I didn't know what she looked like until Hagrid gave me this photo album after my first year. I didn't know when her birthday was until last Christmas."

Molly glanced down at the photo he was looking at. It was of a young woman, her hair was long and red was blowing in the wind. Her hand was shading her eyes from the sun, but her smile made the picture brighter.

"I'm sorry we didn't do anything," Molly whispered.

"It's okay," Harry replied, hoarsely. "I was at her grave, which was why I was late. I could count on one hand what I know about her. It's hard to miss someone that you don't remember."

But Molly could see that he did. She could see it etched on his face, try as he might to conceal it.

It was more than the motherly hugs and kisses, the fussing over the state of his clothes or if he was eating properly, or even the being able to sense when something was wrong that Harry missed (which she herself was able to do). He missed her voice, her touch, her smile, her vibrancy. He missed the woman in that photo and being able to know her. And those were the things that Molly could never substitute for, even if she tried.

She could see him trying to convince himself of the words, that he couldn't really miss her.

Harry looked up at Molly, his eyes filled with unshed tears. The sight broke her heart in two. But Molly, ever the mother, opened her arms and Harry let himself fall in her embrace. He cried against her shoulder. He felt Molly's hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. If he didn't know any better, it was Ginny was comforting him. But he knew it was Molly.

Eventually Harry's tears stopped and Molly handed him a damp washcloth.

"Sorry," he croaked, wiping his face with the washcloth.

"You never mourned your mother did you?" Molly asked, gently.

Harry shook his head. Of all the loss he did grieve and mourn for last year, the loss of his mother wasn't one of them. Sure, he mourned the loss of his parents, but his individual parent.

"Thanks Molly," Harry said, breaking the silence that had engulfed the room.

"For what?" Molly was confused as to why Harry was thanking her for. She was a mother, it was in her job description to provide comfort.

"For everything," Harry replied and then hugged her. She wasn't expecting it and was surprised when Harry wrapped his arms around her for a hug.

When they broke apart a few minutes later, Molly reached over and brushed some hair from Harry's face. He needed a hair cut soon.

"Will you alright?" Molly inquired.

Harry nodded and let out a long breath. "I'll okay. Thanks Molly."

"You're welcome, dear. Get some sleep."

When Molly returned to her room, Harry looked down at the photo. He would be forever grateful to Hagrid for creating a photo album. He then glanced over to the corner where he had placed the photo albums he found in the vault. He was waiting for Ginny to be with him before he looked at. He didn't want to do that alone and decided he wanted Ginny's comfort.

"I miss you, Mum. I miss you very much. I wish you were here." Harry paused, gathering his thoughts. "I hope you don't think Molly is taking your place. Because, as she said, nobody can. I love you, Mum."

Then he kissed his finger and touched the photo. He closed the album and set it on the bedside table.

The next year when he went to the cemetery, he realized he had been followed. As he was leaving, he discovered a young woman standing at the kissing gate, wearing a black coat with matching hat. Her red hair blew in the wind and brown eyes were soft and warm. When he approached her, he took her gloved hand in his bare one and she pulled him into an embrace, as he inhaled her flowery scent.

Then after a few minutes they broke apart and walked towards the alley behind the Potter Memorial as the house was now called.

As the years went by, there wasn't a day Harry missed his mother more than on her birthday and Mother's day. But her birthday was the day he missed her the most.

 **AN: I hope you enjoy reading this fic. I've been wanting to write a Molly comforting Harry fic and since Lily's birthday is today I thought I would give this a shot. Enjoy!**


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